Missed opportunities. At the moment it felt like you had forever, but those precious minutes slipped by and it was a lost cause. Things you could have said, things you could have done. Things you should have said, things you should have done. Things you can’t say anymore and things you can’t do anymore. Regret is an avoidable feeling, although we only realize it in hindsight. Could’ve, should’ve, would’ve — but didn’t. That’s what they all say.
Moving on, but where is the peace? Buried deep in a raging river, a torrent of memories and pain and missed opportunities, broken promises, harsh words, and inconsiderate actions. Both banks have been ravaged by this river, the sand pounded and swept away, eroded shore and crumpling land. Nothing escapes such a sweeping flow. Some places are paved over for protection, buried deep under layers of concrete and sand. The result is ugly. An impenetrable fortress that keeps the current out, but only rushes it past, pushes it farther down stream, faster, harder, to do more damage elsewhere. Entombed in the concrete lies buried hopes and dreams, wishes for a better life that never had a chance. All things that longed to be protected, and no one was brave enough to let them stand against the torrent. They may have even survived, and grow tall, like the mighty oak thriving on the water’s edge. One day the water may have receded, the banks restored, the flood ended. Calm would have returned. But now it seems a distant possibility. The hand of man has left its mark, and it isn’t easily erased from the bitter shards of empty life.
Buried emotions will eventually surface, hidden strife will only cause decay, grace can make beauty out of ugly things–if only you give it a chance.